


Olly olly...

by Nesionne



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Borrows from its premise, F/F, Farewell spoilers too!, Major spoilers for that!, Minor spoilers for Oxenfree, Post-Sacrifice Chloe Ending, References to the Dark Room, Sad Max
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-28 08:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13900299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nesionne/pseuds/Nesionne
Summary: It's October 31, 2013.Chloe is... gone. Max is hurting.[Warning: Major spoilers for Farewell. Spoilers for Oxenfree too, in that this borrows from its premise. Oh, and I've re-done chapter one -- not ma-a-assively, so it's not necessarily worth re-reading if you've already had a look.]





	1. ...outtie outtie...

**Author's Note:**

> So, I played Oxenfree recently. And I also played Farewell recently. So, um...  
> This is intended to merge LiS and Oxenfree, somewhat.
> 
> Enjoy. Or don't. Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated.
> 
> A-a-and I've re-modelled this chapter. It's slightly shorter now, but I hope to make future chapters considerably longer. I don't intend to do this with every chapter, but I just felt like tweaking things. Elements that have been stripped out for now *might* (very likely will, in most cases) be added in later.
> 
> I've given this an 'M' rating on account of its referencing what happened in the Dark Room.

**October 31, 2013**  
**7:30pm**

Halloween was her favourite holiday.

It had been ever since she was small. There was something so appealing about it. She liked Christmas (well, maybe that _would have been_ putting it lightly) and Thanksgiving a lot too, sure. But Halloween was the one; it was really special to Max.

Having an excuse to dress up in all kinds of crazy, dumb, ridiculous, over-the-top, and altogether _awesome_ costumes was great. Not that an excuse was-- No, screw whoever gawked. Who gave a shit what everyone else thought, right?

Max was-- She was done with that, with constantly fretting over how others would react to the things she did. She just wished she’d felt this way (and, importantly, followed through with this ‘revolutionary’ line of thought) a long time ago. It would... would have saved some-- a lot... of heartache.

Sighing, she clambered up and dragged herself across the room to get her phone. She’d been, uh... there wasn’t really a better word for what she’d been doing than ‘languishing’, so... yeah, she had been languishing on her bed. For the past several hours.

She sealed herself up in this room every day. Had done so, for hours at a time, ever since... Spent most of those hours either on, or in, her bed. Sleeping. Watching junk on YouTube. Reading about - about nothing, really. It was, uh... yeah. Sleeping. Max just whiled away the hours, waiting for... just waiting.

As she passed the window, which she could see through today (some days, she pulled the blinds taut, whilst on others she didn’t want to wither away in perpetual gloom), she paused. In her tracks. It was... beautiful. And bleak.

This was another reason why she loved Halloween: everything outside was so stunning this time of year. The quad alone, down in front of the dormitory, was a rich tapestry. The ground was decorated with a fine, crisp carpet of reds, browns, golds. The trees were shedding their coats, bracing for winter’s arrival with nothing to comfort them, to shield their splindy, crooked frames from the chill. Beautiful and bleak. Inspiring and disheartening. Bittersweet.

She had snapped a picture of it all earlier. Out through the window, back when it was light outside. The image hadn’t come out as well as she’d hoped, though. Messed up the angle, and the lighting, picked up too many reflections from the glass. It was a shame, but oh, well. She could’ve tried again, but she had only meant to pop in for a second to get some books for her next class. She hadn’t had the time to take another shot -- nor the inclination, honestly.

Of course, Thanksgiving was also in the fall. And Christmas was picturesque, in its own way, as well -- when it snowed, that is. Even if it impeded Max’s going somewhere, snow never bothered her. It was too awesome to do that. When it didn’t snow, though, it was... too grim. Everything was too drained and weary. Which, she supposed, did have its own intrigue, but...

Neither of them were Halloween.

She looked down, scanned her desk for her phone. Where was it? It wasn’t that large a desk. Like, seriously, it was tiny. She knew (okay, was fairly certain) she left it on here. Maybe it was somewhere on the bookcase? As she scoured both objects, shuffling through textbooks and sheets (she had no idea how it would’ve gotten underneath or in-between any of this stuff, but...), she came across a hand-sized metal container.

It’s surface was getting a bit grimy, admittedly -- it was, until moments ago, left alone to collect dust. Part of her wanted to open it up. Part of her wanted to-- No, she could never do that. Never. Nonetheless, Max was in no mood to open it up and face its contents right now. Especially not today, of all days.

\- - -

**October 31, 2013**  
**8:33pm**

It revealed itself eventually. Her phone.

And it had been overburdened with texts from one Warren Graham. Who--

‘Ma-a-a-acks! Yo, Macks, Earf to--’

\--was currently somewhat tipsy.

‘--to Maksh, you there?’

More than somewhat tipsy? He was totally verging on drinking one too many. Right.

They were all - they being Max, Warren, Kate, Brooke, and Dana - at the beach, beneath a charcoal sky specked with brilliant, distant lights. A biting cold lingered in the night air and coerced everyone up against the bonfire, so close that the heat was nigh-on smothering, actually.

It was a nice idea, coming to spend Halloween down here on the beach, accompanied by both friends and the stars. But perhaps it wasn’t the smartest thing to have done, given the weather. Max had no clue whose idea it had been, but she guessed it was one of Warren’s brainchilds. He looked like he was enjoying himself the most, and he’d come attached to the beers, and he was the one who’d been _very_ insistent that Max came. It appeared a safe bet, that was all.

Not that she had anything else to do this evening. Some homework, maybe? Max was rather adept at doing it at the last possible minute now, though. And she didn’t care so much if it wasn’t amazing or anything. It was usually marked as ‘satisfactory’, so... so whatever? Her place at Blackwell wasn’t in imminent jeopardy, and she could not muster anything close to the enthusiasm required to spend hours, and hours, and hours - as the Academy’s guidelines indicated students should - on her wor--

‘Ma-a-acks,’ Warren drawled. He climbed onto his feet, staggered past the fire, tumbled into the sand. It was kinda amusing to watch, and he elicited some laughter from the others. What Warren did next was rather grating, however. He crawled up to Max and casually slung an arm around her shoulders, with enough force that it caused her to wince. As did the smell besmearing his words; Max was never a fan of beer (or alcohol in general, for that matter), even at the best of times. So its scent was less than welcome now. The girl tensed up, clenched her jaw. She stared straight ahead, was hit by the not-so-subtle stink eye Brooke was firing her away. Fu-- Really?

‘Warren, I don’t--’ Max heard Dana begin, but she was muffled by the chattering of the radio she’d brought and cut off by Warren’s slurred murmuring. This-- God, Max liked Warren -- for the most part. Not like that, not in the way he wanted. He was just funny, and smart, and nerdy, and-- Ultimately harmless, but way too persistent. It could get really tiring on occasion. Like right now. This was too much, and - and in his defense, he didn’t know about _any_ of what had happened, bu--

He lent in, near to Max’s ear, his muggy breath against her face. She had been gearing up to tell him to, well, fuck off. Her fists had snapped shut, vice-like, but now they trembled as the boy mumbled into her ear, ‘Ma-a-a--’

‘--a-a-ax,’ he taunted.

Can’t, I-- I can’t move, I--

Ripping at her skin, her wrists.

Tape.

Leering over her, whispering...

 

His face, i-- Sick intent.

Eyes camoflagued, shifting shape.

T-That--

‘Just... pure expression...’

‘Ma-a-ax, you’re ju-u-ust sch-uper cool, you know--’

‘So innocent.’

His doll, his plaything.

Pricking flesh.

 

‘They’re fucking together in heaven right now. Is that what you want to hear?’

‘...that’s what happens when you... ...try to fuck with me.’

 

‘Ma-a-a-a--’

‘W-Warren.’ Max forced the words out, yet they were crunched up as she crushed them through the cracks between her teeth. They were too quiet to be heard. Her body shivered, against her will; she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, to direct her darkening glare away from the flickering, twitching fire ahead. ‘Get the f-fuc--’

~~My dad got a job there and... I don’t know when I’ll be back.~~

The radio - Dana’s radio - squealed and hissed, like a snared creature.

~~‘I’m so--I did--tell you--so, so sorrr--’~~

Wait - Max’s breath snagged in her tightening throat, and the willpower she rallied fled from her - what? What wa--

‘I will alwa--alwa--alway--’

The radio screeched hideously. Were she not so overwhelmed, so winded by confusion, and shock, and fear--

‘--ways love you--’

It-- H-How, what? What the fuck was happening, it--

‘Go--o--odbye,’  
a voice (her - her own voice) breathed,  
almost lost amidst the shrill,  
incessant buzzing and crackling.

 

A girl’s sobs, frightened and raw, tore at her.


	2. Puncture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not considerably longer than the last chapter, and it isn't what I'd planned.
> 
> But it's all I've re-drafted so far, and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to continue this due to personal reasons. So, I thought I'd just throw this out, and... yeah...
> 
> Thanks.  
> [If you're unaware, I re-modelled chapter 1. It's not dramatically different, but yeah, this chapter continues on from the re-model and not the original version.]

**O ctober 31, 2013  
-:--pm**

 

It seized her. The cold. It gripped its frigid fingers  
around her spine.  
Froze her into place.  
The radio spoke again, fizzled in her eyes,  
‘Goodbye.’

‘...I...’

What was this? She couldn’t be the only one hearing it. Could she? The radio, it... It was her voice. Her voice - distorted and sputtering, shadowed by static screeching - echoing words from years ago. From one of the worst days of her life. Her eyes itched. Her throat caved, entombing her words. The radio continued to shriek, to hiss in her voice -- and in another’s. The naked whimpering had not stopped either. It too was warped, and it choked Max’s heart. Pain speared forcefully through her chest, lodged itself amidst her ribs.

‘...loe?’ she whispered sorely. ‘...C-Ch--’

‘...Max?’

Shudders swept Max’s body. ‘...I,’ she wheezed, scratched at her left eye; it burned acutely, as if being pierced by a needle. ‘Oh-- Oh, my God.’ It was. Wasn’t it? Her rigid limbs loosened, her voice started to tunnel out. ‘Chloe, I--’

‘Max, are... are you okay?’

The words weren’t shrouded in electricity,  
but they were muted. They seeped through glass.

‘Max? I... I don’t know what to do--’

‘C-Chloe, I... I...’ Her mind raced and crawled. Tears threatened to spill forth. She didn’t care; she let them, let rivulets streak across her face. It was her. It _was_. It must have been. Bu t... how? How? Hadn’t Max fixed everything? Fixed time? Hadn’t she put it all back, back as it had been? _She_ was differen t. She-- She was... she was shattered. But that didn’t matter, did it? The storm never came. The universe, or... or whatever the fuck it was, was sated.

It was contented with what Max Caulfield had done. With her having...

...having killed her...  
...her best friend.

 

‘That’s okay -- we will...’

Max collapsed, shaking, into the sand. Hoarse sobs were ripped from her. 

‘Max Caulfield? Don’t you forget about me.’

She killed Chloe. Because that was what-- It was what Arcadia Bay needed. Because it was what the world demanded. Because she-- Because Chloe had a-asked her to! Max killed her, left her to die in a - a fucking bathroom, frightened and alone, deserted her.

‘...Forever.’

W-What was this? What was happening? Why! Max stopped fucking with time! The universe had won; she had lost! What was the fucking point in any of this bullshit if everything was still fucked! Her head, teetering on her disintegrating body, pounded and thumped incessantly. The radio’s wailing stabbed her. Ringing suffocated the air. Max cradled her stained face with quivering hands.

Then...  
‘Max, it’s me! Max?’  
...it ceased.  
All fell quiet; the radio was  
silenced, as if it had never been.

 

Max’s temples drummed, pumelled by her heart beat. ‘Chlo-oe? I-Is it...’ Her voice creaked, slipped out from between her fingers.

‘Max...’

 

Oh. Oh, God, it-- It _really_ was. Her body quaked uncon trollably, but she willed herself up. The ghost of a smile danced across her lips, gracing her tortured features. This... No. Was this another nightmare, o-or another dream, or...? It was, honestly, hard to tell them apart some days. This was real. This had to be. It _had_ to. If it wasn’ t, she... her bruised heart would sting all the more when she awoke. But how was Chloe-- How could she be here? Here, talking to Max? Was this-- Was time unravelling again? Distorting all around Max again? She scrubbed at her face with her palms, ground up her tears.

Please? Just... please? Let this be her. Max sniffled weakly. Her breath was entangled, the spear was driven in.

‘C-Chloe, I’m...

...I’m so, so s-sorry.

I’m sorry for-- God, for so many things. For... I’m sorry I left you. For h-having left-- For abandoning you for so long. For...’ Max swallowed, shakily. She exhaled deeply, bit her lip. ‘...I’m sorry, I-- I wish I had stayed in touch, I... Nothing I can say will... w-will ever... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was’--Max choked, pressed her wrist against her dripping nose--‘leaving. I _wish_ I had been a b-bett er friend, a-and...

I love yo--’

‘Max, come on!’

Max heaved.

‘Max, it’s us! Max!’

...Us.

Us?

No. No, no. Wait.

No, no, no.

No, Chloe, she-- She had to be hearing this, Max **needed** Chloe. Needed her to hear this. She--

 

‘Warren, I told you not t--’

 


End file.
